


Lion Heart

by nova_taylor



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, HIV/AIDS, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Memories, Sexual Content, Sexual Repression, Teenage hormones tbh, X-Men(ish) au, so much pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nova_taylor/pseuds/nova_taylor
Summary: Annie Leonhardt lived a life with no future. She was just a kid with no real childhood. A woman, forced to be a warrior from age thirteen. When she's given the opportunity for a new life, she has no choice other than accept. But is this truly better?WARNING: This work contains indirect spoilers. Some are major, but no spoilers are explicitly stated.[ ON HOLD ]





	1. Act I: Guren no Yumiya

**Author's Note:**

> It is very important that you mind the trigger warnings! The last thing I want is to upset readers. Consider yourself warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fuck's sake please read the tags. I apologise for the crudely dark beginning, but how else are you supposed to get a taste for the story's tone? Please understand that this will probably be the last of non-con appearing in this story.

Black and blue. These colors, along with ugly shades of brown, green, and purple adorned her skin. Annie hated looking at herself in the mirror. It was even worse naked, when she could see just how many dull bruises covered her body. It was ugly.  _I deserve it,_ she thought. _I am an ugly person and I deserve these ugly bruises._

The dresses she wore weren't ugly. She supposed it was supposed to compensate for her looks. Not to mention her personality. Personality, however, wasn't something that mattered when she got thrashed around. She used to fight. Fighting never made it better for Annie. They'd beat her regardless. Only once did she made the mistake of hurting a client. Pain worse than she could ever imagine. The girl couldn't move for days. Completely numb to everything around her.

That's what she felt like when it happened. The usual pain of work. Her client hadn't been gentle or polite. The woman hurt her more than most clients would. A desperate desire burnt in her eyes and she wouldn't stop slapping her hard and pulling Annie's hair. She bit her multiple times. It was all fast, which made it hurt worse.  _She's ashamed of herself._ This wasn't Annie's first time around the block. Maybe this woman was running out of time. She did something that Annie couldn't remember. She just remembered how bad it hurt. The wicked delight in the woman's eyes made Annie go numb. 

Before the woman could do anything else there was a loud bang and then she was gone from Annie's vision. All she could see was the ends of her sparkly, black dress and her legs. Annie remained still, clutching the sheets as she did before. Even as she heard more banging and screaming from somewhere inside the warehouse she stayed numb. Her brain finally caught up to her. _The client is dead. Someone is shooting the place up._ She hoped it was the police. Her heart swelled at the thought. She still couldn't bring herself to move. Her inner pessimism told her it was futile. It couldn't be the police.

Something heavy thumped on the door. A body. One. Two. Three. The door opened and clattered off the hinges.  _Some muscle man with roid rage has come to end my life,_ Annie declared in her mind. Part of her wondered if dying would really be that bad. She still couldn't see anything past her legs. She wasn't really trying anymore. Whomever busted in had light footsteps, which confused Annie. She could see a crown of black hair. 

" _Jesus fucking Christ!"_ Clearly a man. The head disappeared for a moment. He must've been kneeling on the floor. In a second, she could see the man clearly. He pushed her legs together, then both to the side.

The man had a fierce expression. Annie could tell that he was angry- but not at her. He helped her sit up and gingerly took her hands. She stared blankly at him.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked. He had a sense of urgency, looking from her to the door.

"Annie," she paused, trying to remember what her last name was. Her eyebrows furrowed. She hadn't heard it in such a long time she couldn't remember. So she decided to use the surname of a kind man she'd met. "Annie Leonhardt."

The banging sounds seemed to move closer. "How old are you Annie?"

"Thirteen."  _Or something like that,_ she thought. 

That answer really seemed to do him in. "Thirteen," he mumbled. In a flash, he brandished his gun, causing Annie to jump. He didn't shoot her as she expected. Rather, he ran through the door frame. 

* * *

The screaming and shooting went on for another twenty minutes before the man came back. His face was bloody. Annie sat on the edge of the bed, gently prodding her dead client with her toes. When his bloody face appeared in front of her, she didn't jump.

"Come on, we have to go," he ordered.

"Go? Go where?" she asked. A loud noise sounded from somewhere outside. She was immediately scooped into the bloody man's arms. When he began to run, everything became a blur. Guns. People running. Shooting. Screaming. And then it was gone. Annie was somewhat shoved into some black leather seats. When the world stopped spinning, she was buckled in, and the car was moving crazy fast.

"Where are we going and who are you?" Annie asked, facing the driver's seat. To her surprise, the dark haired man was sitting next to her.  _How the hell?_

"Annie. I'm sure you're confused, but I assure you we  _will_ answer your questions." The answer came from a tall man in the passenger's seat. He had bright blonde hair and a soothing voice. "I am Erwin Smith and I run a very special academy for special people like you, Annie. The man who rescued you is Levi Ackerman and our driver here is Petra Ral."

"Hi Annie," Petra sheepishly greeted. "I wish we could've met over better circumstanc- woah!" The older girl ran over a pothole, nearly flipping the car. She released a long string of Dutch curses. "Sorry sorry sorry," she mumbled.

Annie was silent for a moment before realizing that thanking them would be appropriate. "Thank you!" she blurted. She could've sworn she heard Erwin chuckle.

* * *

 

Levi watched as Petra escorted Annie inside the academy. The kid's eyes were wide, but her face stayed blank. He felt a flicker of pity for the kid. It reminded him of his baby cousin when she first came. Of course she wasn't alone. Levi stood for a moment, trying to evaluate which story was worse.

"You're just going to get frustrated if you keep doing that."

"Fuck off, Erwin," he spat, smacking away the hand that landed on his shoulder.

"What happened back there?" Erwin questioned.

Levi glared up at Erwin. "You're already in my head, dumbass. You should know. Why didn't you just read the brat?" It was obvious how defensive he sounded. "Fuck! Fine just get out!" he shouted. "She's thirteen years old.  _Thirteen!_ I lost control again and killed way more people than necessary."

"Was Annie really your motivation or something else?" And there it was, classic Erwin. His blue eyes searching in the depths of his mind. It made Levi want to scream. Once Erwin stopped prowling, a thought occurred to the short man. "You didn't read Annie." An accusatory tone.

"You're correct," the man mussed. "Regardless, she's going to need training. I'm asking you-"

"No. Absolutely not. Not another one," Levi protested.

"Just  _tutor_ her. Please, Levi, be decent. I am your  _superior._ Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Without Levi vocally agreeing, Erwin left as though he was satisfied. 

He watched the man walk across the large courtyard, heading for the garden. Without a doubt, he was going to see his son. Perhaps he was going to attempt to coax him into physical sessions? The boy would never go. With all of his mind reading abilities, couldn't he take a hint? Or was it divination that made him so stubborn? The more be thought of Erwin's abilities, the more he thought of Annie. _What if Erwin didn't read her because be couldn't?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will get lighter....at some points.... Anyhow, the next chapter will introduce current students and their abilities.


	2. The Freak Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I accidentally posted this unfinished. Sorry about that. Anyhow! This chapter contains some self harm and graphic scenes, so beware. Also, in this chapter and throughout the story there will be indirect spoilers. Please don't point them out in the comment section! You've been warned.

The sight of the building took Annie's breath away. She'd never even dreamed of seeing a place like this, much less go inside. It looked like a castle on the outside. From what the girl could see, there were six towers, the largest having a gigantic spire. All connected to one main building. Annie couldn't tell how many floors the building had.

"Starstruck much?" Petra teased. "I'm kidding. It's an intimidating building, but there's so much more than what's on the surface. Er- outside."

Petra couldn't have been that much older than her. Three or four years at least. She wasn't very tall and still looked young. She had the kind of strawberry blonde hair that was so well groomed, that she had to be a teenager. Not to mention she talked like one.

"It's a private estate, actually. You don't see many places like this in Berlin! The building is ages old. Something like five hundred, I think," Petra grinned,"You'll really love the inside!"

And Annie did. The ceilings were incredibly high, decorated with fantastic murals. It seemed like the amount of decorations outnumbered the amount of blank space on the walls. She wondered if the floor was given as much thought. When she looked down, she could practically see her reflection in the shiny floor - and how dirty her feet were. She must've left tracks. Petra followed her gaze to the floor and gasped. "How did I forget to bring you shoes?" she groaned. "Mina! I need you to clean something up for me!" the teen yelled at seemingly nothing. It took Annie a moment to see the stairwell. A few moments later, a smaller girl appeared moving quickly down the stairs. But something wasn't quite right.  _She's floating!_ Annie thought. 

"Wow Petra. Did you walk through the garden?" Mina asked, clearly teasing.

Or maybe it was just clear to Annie because the teasing part went straight over Petra's head. "I don't - augh! No, it was Annie! I forgot to get shoes for her."

Mina raised her eyebrows at the girl. "I can see her, Petra. I'm just teasing you," the floating girl turned to Annie," I'm Mina Carolina. Pleased to meet you."

Mina had the kind of smile that made Annie's heart flutter. "Annie Leonhardt. It's nice to meet you too." She attempted a smile and hoped she didn't look too awkward.

"Not to be rude, but you're going to need a bath. I'll find some clothes for you. Actually, Mina will you take her to the bathroom?"

Mina nodded. "It's going to sound a little weird, but I need you to hold my hand," the tiny girl began.

Annie did so and just barely stifled a scream when she felt herself lift off the ground. She could see Mina was trying not to giggle. "I'm sorry," Annie mumbled.

"Don't worry about it, Annie. Just don't panic okay?"

Annie didn't have time to respond because Mina was already moving. It was strange. The girl would move her legs and they'd keep moving along. It wasn't like walking, but more like a skateboard or ice skates. A cool breeze tickled her feet and ankles. Even more so when Mina moved. They floated a good two feet over the ground, moving swiftly down the hall. Left. Right. First door on the left. Annie was surprised to see that the bathrooms were heavily decorated too. A family crest hung above the door frame. Annie squinted her eyes at the words on the bottom. Was that English?

When she looked back at Mina, the cool breeze was gone and they were both standing on the ground. Mina beamed proudly. "Pretty cool, right?"

Annie quickly agreed. "How'd you do it?" she added.

"That's my power. I can man-i-pulate air. Here, let me run your water."

Annie was fully aware of how bathtubs work, but watched Mina anyways. She wrinkled her nose when the younger girl started pouring in bubble soap. She wasn't  _eleven._ In fact, she was capable of using a  _shower._ Still, she thanked Mina for all of her help. Petra soon came with clothes, a washrag, and towel. 

After Petra left and locked the door, Annie undressed and slid into the tub. She gingerly traced over her bruises and scars. She scoffed at her ugly body. She'd just be pretty if - if she didn't have - if only her personality were more - if only she fought back - if only these things never happened to her. She sank back into the water, getting her hair wet. Annie sighed, trying to get rid of the bad thoughts and memories that kept surfacing like the bubbles in the water. But it wasn't that easy to forget. It never was. Annie picked up the washcloth and began to scrub. Her face, behind her ears. Every last inch of her skin, scrubbed pinkish. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the ledge of the tub and began beating her hair with it. She would be clean. Maybe not her memories, but her outside would.

* * *

"Dinner is in ten minutes, okay? I just want to show you our little living space. It's like a dorm, but with a nice amount of room," Petra explained, walking down a second story hall. The academy was so large, it was dizzying. Petra led her to a door that was a gross shade of pink. It looked like a child had used medicine for paint. The paint certainly didn't look five hundred years old. The blonde then swung the door open. Annie followed her into the threshold, admiring its size. It didn't have the grand ceilings like the halls, but an impressive chandelier hung from the center of the room. Three beds were in the far corner of the room and two more on the adjacent side. The whole room was the ugly color of the door, making it less desirable. Annie gave something of a smile. The room was impressive, but the paint color was unsettling to say in the least.

"It's," she paused,"nice."

Petra laughed at her for a few moments. Chuckling, she asked,"Is it the paint?"

* * *

 Dinner went by faster than Annie thought it would. She was surprised to see that only she and Petra sat and ate in the dinning hall.

"There are other people that live here, right?" she asked before shoving some bread in her face. She was starving.

Petra pursed her lips and nodded. Slowly she said, "There were more people. Not so much anymore. Even when I first came here, this dinning hall could never get full. Regardless if everyone was in it." The strawberry blonde pushed some peas to the side of her plate. 

Annie deduced that those people had died. Some of them must've been Petra's friends, by the sad look on her face. Not knowing how to comfort her, she continued eating. The two ate in silence for the rest of the meal. Annie wondered where the others were. Why didn't they all eat together? She tried to picture a happier setting, but to no avail.

 _Maybe I should try to make her happy,_ Annie thought. She'd already finished and Petra was pitifully picking at peas. "Do you miss them?" she asked the older girl. It was a stupid question to ask, really. But Annie wasn't good at these kinds of things.

The older girl nodded. "All of the time," she whispered. She flinched a little when Annie put her hand on her back.

"I can be your friend. If you want me to," Annie started.

She didn't get to finish because Petra pulled her into a deep hug. "Thank you, Annie. I'd love that." She stayed like that for a few minutes, laughing into the younger girl's hair and sniffling every now and then.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm going to need to steal Annie from you."

The man who saved her. Levi Ackerman. Now that she could see him in a better situation, she saw how short he was. Some of hair was long, the underneath cut short.  _It's called an undercut, dummy._ His eyes were dark. She wasn't close enough to see what color they were. He had a commanding aura about him. He was giving her an off look. Some mixture of pity, annoyance, and confusion. 

Annie stood, realizing that he'd summoned her. She hurried to his side. Wordlessly, he began leading her through the building. She followed him halfway across the building to room that somewhat resembled a gymnasium. Confused, Annie looked up at Levi.  _What are we doing here?_ she thought.

"I want to see what you can do," he narrowed his eyes," To see if you're really worth keeping."

His statement made Annie shudder. "W-What do I have to show you?" she asked, unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

"You're going to fight," he stated simply.

Annie looked around the room, desperate to see a way out. She noticed a boy around her age, standing nearby. He probably wouldn't help her get out of this. Uneasily, she glanced back at Levi. "Am I fighting you?"

The dark haired man sneered. "I'm not going to fight a kid. You're going to fight Eren. Oi! Jeager, get your ass over here!"

Eren hurried over like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. "Is this the girl Mina was talking about?" he asked excitedly. The tan boy resembled a puppy when he talked to the older man. Not so much when he peeked at Annie. 

"This is Annie. You two are going to duke it out over there." He pointed to the middle of the gymnasium. Eren obediently went to the middle, whereas Annie took her time, attempting to think it out. "Move it, Leonhardt!" And so she did.

* * *

 

"Go!"

The goal was to knock the other off their feet three times. It seemed simple enough at the time, but when Eren charged at her, Annie wasn't so sure. She held a stance that just felt right to her. It looked like he was going to punch her, which would be easy enough to block. But she wasn't expecting his hand to be on fire. In a panic, she threw her hands in front of her face, bracing for impact.

"What the hell?!" Eren yelled, snapping Annie into the present. His hand was still on fire, but she wasn't burning. Nothing hurt. She looked at her arms, which seemed normal until she noticed the shiny surface, creeping around her arms. A crystal like substance, blocking Eren's attack.  _Knock him down!_ she remembered. With her other arm, she grabbed Eren's arm and thrust it upwards then tackled him. 

 _One!_ Annie pinned his arm down and prepared herself to punch him. She threw herself off of him when she spotted another flaming fist coming towards her face. She rolled to the side and stood, waiting for Eren to charge her again. It only took a second for him to do that. He let out a savage cry and the rest of his torso caught fire. When he got close enough, she dived between his legs. She shot out her arm to grab his leg and Eren went sailing to the ground.  _Two!_

_This is going to be easier than I thought!_

Suddenly Annie found herself on the floor, pinned under Eren. She'd gotten distracted and complacent with relief. Most of him was extinguished, but he emitted a lot of heat. Annie howled in pain and shot straight up, headbutting Eren. It must've took him off guard because it was enough force to knock him off. The crystal substance from her arms were gone. She willed them back, but nothing was happening. She was running out of time. Eren was ready - and angry. This time, she ran at him. He looked surprised, but even more so when she faked him out. When he swung at her, she ducked and threw herself at her legs. Eren fell and screamed in rage. He ran at her, torso raging with flames. 

Annie must've blacked out. When she opened her eyes, Eren was extinguished and her arm was sticking out through his torso, completely crystalized. She yanked her arm out and screamed. In an instant, Levi was pulling her away. He sat her down on the bleachers in the back. She couldn't stop screaming. "I didn't mean to kill him! I'm sorry! I'm sorry Eren! I didn't mean it!" The girl carried on screaming and sobbing into Levi's shoulder until he brought his hand to her mouth. 

"Annie. Look at him," he commanded.

She looked up and saw the boy sitting up, smoke coming from the hole in his torso. He sat there, clearly alive and staring at her. After a while, he stood and started walking towards her. Annie jumped up and met him halfway there. "I'm sorry! I didn't know that I- I -"

"Annie, that was awesome!"

The blonde girl stood, dumbstruck. She had literally just punched a hole in this boy and he was calling her awesome. "Awesome?" she echoed.

"Can you teach me to be that badass? Man if both you and Levi teach me to fight, I'll defeat all of my enemies!" He didn't seem to be talking to anyone anymore, blissfully unaware of the smoke pouring from his body. Annie stood and watched him for a while as he excitedly talked to Levi. He then came back to her and Levi left. "Levi says I should take you to Hange." With that, he turned on heel and marched out with Annie not far behind.

* * *

Eccentric was a word that could accurately describe Doctor Hange Zöe. To Annie, the doctor seemed androgynous, but used female pronouns. She certainly liked to talk. Dr Zöe explained things like a whirlwind. Annie could barely remember what she said about Eren's regenerative abilities. She zoomed all across her little treating room, looking at Annie's various injuries and applying creams here and there.

"I wish I could've seen it! Were the crystals bloody? Did it hurt you to put your arm through Eren's body? Was it still warm?" Hange barraged her with questions for a good twenty minutes, Annie trying to answer them all the best that she could.

"Uh. I didn't look at my arms, I was too frightened. I blacked out, so I don't think so. It wasn't warm. He extinguished after it happened I guess."

Hange breathed dreamily. "How fascinating. Anyhow, Annie, you'll be fine in a few hours. He didn't really burn you too badly. Nothing third degree. As for those bruises," she handed her a small jar of ointment," rub this on before bed." She smiled and excused herself to Erwin's office. Wherever that was. 

It left Annie to wander around the medical wing. She hadn't been to very many hospitals in her lifetime, but she could remember what they looked like. The medical wing reminded her of one. She passed by a room with a large glass screen. She could spot a tiny girl standing in the center. There was a camera pointed straight at the girl.

The girl hunched over and let out the worst scream Annie had ever heard. Edging closer, she could see something moving in between the girl's shoulder blades. Something pushed up high, threatening to break the girl's skin. She let out another horrible scream as it sank back down and two things stretched her skin. Up and down, stretching her skin dangerously thing. Then, featherless wings popped from her back, spraying the glass with the tiny girl's blood. She fell and laid, screaming on the floor. The agony in the girl's voice was unbearable, but Annie couldn't tear her eyes away. She couldn't stop looking at the bloody pink wings protruding from the poor thing's back. They were huge and grotesque. Bits of flesh hung from the tips and some of her skin was still hanging off her back. Slowly, grotesque feathers began growing from the nightmarish wings. The girl must've passed out, because she stopped screaming and moving. 

Annie stumbled away from the display, alarmed by what she saw. "What kind of place  _is_ this?" she whispered, walking away from the medical wing.

* * *

 

"Don't worry about it, Eren," Mikasa had said. But how could he not? That scraggly Annie girl wiped the floor with him. It was humiliating. He'd hoped that he could get the girl to share her secrets, but she seemed too confused. She punched straight through his body like a badass and didn't even know how. It was _effortless._ He told Mikasa because he could tell her anything. He always did. But she always said the same thing and gave him that same look of disappointment when he walked out of the bathroom with smoking wrists. 

He didn't have any sense of control. Not then. Not when he rescued Mikasa two years ago by burning those men alive. Even when she killed the third. She couldn't help him control himself. She couldn't stop him from torching Singansina.

* * *

 When Annie left the medical wing, Eren was waiting for her around the corner. His torso was still smoking, but not as badly as before. He smiled at her and she noticed his eyes were a peculiar shade of turquoise. It made him seem a little less - scary wasn't the right word. Alarming maybe. Annie realized she was staring him down and looked away.

"Do you always have to have such a straight face? You look like my sister," he said, losing his grin. "Anyhow. You know that I can set myself on fire and stuff, but I ought to show you the rest of the freak train."

He led her down a few halls until they were standing in a brightly lit, yellow room. A wide, flat screen TV was mounted on the back wall. Adjacent to it were two long couches. An air hockey table sat on the other side of the room and bean bags littered the floor. A room made for kids by somebody who didn't really understand kids. She wondered if Hange decorated it. Yellow paint and bean bags. An odd kind of fun that she thought the doctor would probably enjoy.

At first, she couldn't see anybody on the couches, but when Eren led her around, she saw four other kids. The Asian looking girl sitting on the floor stood when she saw Eren. "This is my sister, Mikasa. She's super strong, fast, and some third thing."

"Durable." Mikasa's face was devoid of emotion and so was her voice. Annie wasn't sure if she liked that. Especially not the way that her cold grey eyes raked over her.

"Yeah whatever," Eren continued, pointing to Mina.

"We've already met Eren," Mina called, grinning brightly at Annie. Annie smiled back.

"Whatever. That's Armin Smith, he's Erwin's son and he's," the boy paused, looking wearily at Armin," smart."

The first thing that Annie noticed about Armin was his stupid haircut. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, like an Aryan coconut. He waved meekly. 

Eren lazily pointed his finger at the older girl, sprawled across the couch. She had dark brown hair and was a little bit darker than Eren. "That's Ymir. She's like Satan or something." He obviously had something against her.

"Suck a dick, Eren," Ymir responded. Maybe that was why. 

"Where's Krista?" Eren asked, ignoring the older girl.

"She's in the observation room. But who are you?" Ymir turned to Annie with some kind of weird look on her face.

Annie felt a weird tingling sensation in her temples, like someone was pushing on her head. Trying to ignore it, she gave her best attempt at a smile and said, "My name is Annie Leonhardt and I can," she couldn't quite find the right words. "I can..." She stopped. She was receiving weird looks from everyone now. "I - Eren try to punch me."

The tan boy raised an eyebrow. "What? I don't really want you punching another hole through me, as cool as that was." Mikasa bristled next to him. "Relax Mikasa, jeez."

"It was an accident. And I'd rather show than tell," Annie explained.

Eren shrugged and ignited his fist. Annie hoped that she wouldn't get sent back to the medical wing with third degree burns just because she had poor communication skills. But when Eren punched, his fist connected with crystal. Both of her arms were covered in it. The room fell silent, clearly impressed with the display. 

Crossing her crystalized arms across her chest, Annie smiled genuinely and said, "I can do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your support. It really keeps me going. Please continue to look at the tags! I'm going to try to update once or twice a week. Please remember to read the tags and notes! I marked this as mature for a reason. Please continue to enjoy! P.S. Jean and Marco will appear in the next chapter.


	3. Neighsayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself just as much as you do for that chapter name. I'm taking a two week hiatus to start writing chapters so hopefully there won't be another delay like this one. After the hiatus, you can probably expect updates on Mondays or Fridays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter players Jean and Marco! This chapter contains drug use and graphic scenes. I'm really considering writing one shots on the side, so this story doesn't get too fluffy. Probably Reicon, Mikasasha, and that junk.

Jean Kirschtein had seen plenty of bad days. But nothing _quite_ like this. Granted, Poitiers was a big place with a lot of people, so it's no surprise that he got mugged. But out of all of the people in France, why did it have to be him?

 It'd been a fairly normal day for Jean. He'd helped his mother clean up the mess from his thirteenth birthday party. Since he didn't help much, he decided to make his mother breakfast and of course, they were out of eggs. So the boy tugged on his shoes and headed out for the small grocery store a few blocks away.

He hadn't even made it half way there when he was tripped. A tall, scrappy woman loomed above him. She was dressed masculine, but her feminine features were obvious. "Ow!" Jean squeaked. "What's the matter with you?" He couldn't help but feel nervous. That woman had a strange look in her eyes as she walked closer to him. _I try to be a good son and now look what's happening,_ he thought. She picked him up by the collar and dragged him deeper into the alley.

He hadn't seen anyone around earlier, which was odd. Perhaps there was some escaped prisoner in the area and he didn't know.

"Give me your wallet, rat!" the woman demanded. It seemed Jean had taken to long for her liking and she kicked him in the ribs.

Wheezing, Jean reached into his back pocket, fished out his wallet, and thrust it out to the lady. She immediately snatched it and held it protectively to her chest. Jean tried to sit up, just to receive a boot to the face. The lady barraged him with kicks until he could barely feel anything. "Don't move, you fucking freak!" She knelt down, placing one knee on top of his chest. "Do you have anything else, freak?" The woman was practically screaming at him.

 _Can't anybody hear this?_ The boy screamed in a mixture of pain and fear, hoping that anyone anyone could hear him. The woman sank her weight on her right knee, causing a sick crunching sound. She was screaming words that he couldn't quite hear. He could see a knife, but black was creeping into the corners of his vision and colorful stars decorated his sight. Jean didn't want to die today, but he couldn't exactly do anything about it. As it turned out, he didn't have to.

* * *

 Marco had never been more scared in his entire life. He was always told that Abuela was confused when she babbled about secret men taking babies. Adults would say that she was confused when she said funny things that didn't quite make sense.

It was no secret that Marco was her favorite grandchild. 

"Marco, you are a shining star. Don't you let anybody take that from you," she would always say. She preferred him even over baby Issac, which made him happy. "I love you too, bebé," she would add whenever his parents gave her the look.

Abuela was as competent as anyone. She could walk without a walker and didn't have any speech or memory problems. But adults would still say that she was "confused". After a while, Marco figured they only said that when she said or did something they didn't like. 

They especially hated when she would tell Marco about the men who stole babies. "Why would they do that, Abuela? Are they going to take Issac?" he would ask with teary eyes and quivering lips.

"No, Marco. Issac isn't going anywhere. But," she paused right there, everytime," they take special babies who can do wonderful things so that they can use their powers for destruction. They're bad bad men. But I won't let them take you. Not then, not now."

She'd give him talks about the bad men sometimes, but was always cut off by someone saying that she was confused. That she didn't know what she was talking about. But he knew Abuela wasn't. He didn't doubt her, no matter what anybody said. 

It was a Saturday when he stayed the night at Abuela's house. They were watching one of her favorite action movies when the banging started. Abuela hurried to the door and looked through the peephole. Her face turned white. She returned to Marco, pale and sweaty. "Marco, listen to me. You need to run away from here as fast as you can," she whispered urgently.

"Run home? But Ab-" he whispered back.

"No. I need you to trust me. Take my bag and take a train to Berlin. You need to find Smith Academy. It's only safe plac-"

The banging got louder. Marco scrambled to her bag and opened it up. Abuela reached inside and grabbed her thin wallet. "Hide it in your shirt and run when I tell you to. I'm so sorry, Marco."

What happened next, Marco couldn't comprehend. The door bursted open and a giant, hairy creature ran inside. It's head smashed against the ceiling, causing it to break. Pieces of the ceiling fell all around them. Marco dived to the ground, covering his head. He looked up at his Abuela, who screamed for him to run. She then turned back to the monster and her skin began to glow. Slowly at first, but quickly, all of her skin was shining brightly. It was hard to look at. The monster let out a feral roar and the old woman screamed a battle cry before flying at it. Literally. They crashed through the wall, leaving a hole in the kitchen and a way outside. Marco darted through the front door and down her concrete stairs. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him down the street until a black van came to a screeching halt right in front of him, running over the concrete. The boy screamed and ran in the other direction. It only took a second for him to be tackled to the ground. Before the boy could catch his breath, he was tossed into the back of the van.

Marco laid there, numbly, his cheek to the floor. He could make out another silhouette in the darkness. "Hello?" he called. A tall boy scooted forwards. 

"Hallo. Mein Name ist Bertolt," the boy said.

Marco scrunched his nose. "What did you say? Can you speak Spanish?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer. The boy looked back at him, confused as well. The tall boy sighed, realizing they couldn't communicate properly. 

They didn't speak for hours. After the first hour, Marco fell asleep, only to be woken up two hours later by potholes. At least, he was certain that's what it was.  _Escape._ It was all Marco could think of. But how could he? He beckoned the tall boy over. "Hey you," he said, "are you strong enough to open those doors?" He pointed at the door and made pushing motions.

"Du bist lustig."

Marco frowned, a crease growing in his forehead. He pointed to the door and made a pushing motion. "Push," he instructed.

 "Drücken?"

"Push." Marco made the gesture again.

"Drücken?"

"Push."

"Drücken?"

"Push!" Marco cried, starting to get exasperated.

"Drücken?"

The freckled boy threw his hands in the air. 

"Drücken?"

"Fine. Droy que!" he exclaimed, trying to mimic the boy's words. Then he was dragged by his arm to the door. Then it was open and he was flying through the air. Marco rolled into the street, scraping against the road and nearly getting ran over. Despite the pain, Marco rushed himself over to the sidewalk. He could just barely see the boy closing the door. While inside of the truck, he hadn't realized how fast they were going. As the van sped out of his sight, he could picture his Abuela, shining.  _Run!_

 The boy had no idea where he was or where he was going, but he ran. He pushed past people and into crowds, hoping to find some kind of clue as to where he was. The people around him spoke a language he couldn't quite understand. After what felt like an hour of running, Marco flopped onto a wooden bench. He was hungry, tired, and lost. Most of all, he was scared. He flinched when a hand was placed on his shoulder. The person was a young man, about twenty or so. "Excusez-moi, monsieur? Avez-vous faim?" he asked, holding up a white paper bag.

Marco squinted in thought. Excusez-moi?  _That's French! I must be in France,_ he thought excitedly.  _Or maybe this is just a French speaking place._

The boy politely smiled and said,"I don't speak French, sir."

The man looked surprised, mumbling a few things Marco couldn't understand. He finally set the bag next to Marco and patted his head before walking away. At first Marco just stared at the bag, wondering what could possibly be inside. Then, when he couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed the bag and opened it. It was a pastry covered in powdered sugar. He couldn't help but tear up a little at the stranger's kindness. He set it back in the bag and looked for the man in the crowd, but he was nowhere in sight.

* * *

After four or so hours, Marco found himself wandering the streets. In that time, he hadn't found a single Spanish speaking person. He did find out that he  _was_ in France, thanks to a very patriotic house downtown.

 He couldn't stop thinking about his family. He hoped they were okay and didn't miss him too much because he sure did. Especially his Abuela. He never got to see what happened to her. She was a  _hero._ It made him think of the times that Abuela would sit him down and give one of her star speeches.

"Marco Santos Bodt," she would begin by reciting his whole name ," you are a special young man. You're clever, sweeter than honey, and so handsome. You have a face like your grandfather. My precious grandson I know you're marked for great things. You're such a sweet young boy. And polite! Oh! You have the potential to be a hero, Marco. You are my shining star and don't you  _ever_ forget that. Do you understand?"

He would always say yes, but now? He was lost and on the run without a sliver of hope. He couldn't be  _anybody's_ hero.

 The boy solemnly carried on, peering down alleyways as he passed them by. He wouldn't want to get snatched by a stranger again. Marco stopped when he heard someone yell. Looking around, he noticed that there was nobody else in the area. Every other place he'd been was crawling with people. It was still daytime, adding to the unusualness. Cautiously, Marco made his way closer to the sound. He froze when he saw a tall figure beating on someone much smaller. Someone calling out for help.

_I know you're marked for great things._

Marco knew they needed help. He felt his legs propel him towards the attacker. He couldn't recall ever being that fast. Adrenaline rushed through his body and he jumped far higher than your average tweleve year-old should. 

_You have the potential to be_

A light -  _her light_ glowed from Marco's fist. It didn't hurt him when it connected with the attacker's skull. The attacker rolled to the side with a noisy thud. Marco knelt over to see a boy around his age, hazel eyes wide with shock. He extended his arm.

_A hero._

* * *

 

It'd only been a week. In that time, Annie had learned so much about her powers, the others, and routine that she felt as if she'd been inducted into a cult. 

She stood in front of the camera in the observation room as Hange named random body parts.

"Fingers" Annie concentrated on the area and her fingers were covered in her crystal substance. "Shins" This time, the crystalization was slower. "Neck and forearms" The girl's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to utilize both areas. It was slower than she would've liked, but Hange seemed pleased. "Spine" Strangely, this was the fastest for Annie. She turned to let the doctor see her crystalized spine. "Now do your whole torso!" Hange called.

Screwing her eyes shut, the blonde focused all of her attention on her torso. When she opened her eyes, the crystal substance chased towards her neck and navel. It stopped just at her chin and somewhere below the waistband of her shorts. 

From the small window, Annie could see Hange whooping and celebrating. She felt herself smile at that. After a brief moment, Hange returned to her headset. "Annie. Can you try to crystalized your lower body too?"

The girl considered it, then nodded. Slowly but surely, her legs then feet were totally crystalized.

"Can you move?" Hange asked. Annie could practically taste her excitement. She lifted her right leg with ease. She turned in a circle and started pacing the room. Moving with her mostly crystalline body was easier than she expected. It didn't really feel all that different, but she was starting to get a headache. She stopped walking and waved both arms at Hange.

"Perfect!" the doctor shouted, causing Annie to flinch. She could feel the substance leave her legs and she closed her eyes, trying to regain it. It came back at a snail's pace. Her skull felt like it was on fire. "Could you try your head? Pretty please?" Though she couldn't see it, she could tell Hange was batting her eyelashes. 

"Y-yeah." Her voice came out shaky. Annie's hands flew to her forehead and she cried out. Her head hurt so bad that she couldn't tell if her head was crystalized or not. She felt herself fall and curled up on the ground. Her brain pounded mercilessly against her skull, feeling as though it was threatening to split.

* * *

 

Hange came bursting through the door, trying to pick the girl up. Annie whimpered and the doctor was surprised to see the crystalline substance try to crawl onto her. She moved away from the struggling girl to examine what was happening. She noticed that the ground was starting to gain a crystal covering. "Annie! You can stop now. I've got everything that I need from you," she said quickly, hoping that it'd make a difference. To her relief,it stopped. She picked the girl up and carried her out of the room, setting Annie in her rolling chair. As she pressed stop on the recording button, she could hear Annie murmur something.

"Woosh," she mumbled louder.  _I wonder what she's dreaming of,_ Hange thought, smiling at the sleeping girl. Careful not to wake her, she picked her up and started to make her way to the girl's quarters.  _The poor girl has been through enough already. She deserves some sweet dreams._ The doctor had finally managed to squash the young girl's syphilis symptoms and she was certain that the lice was gone. Her bruises were fading but what Hange really wanted to do was heal her heart. Not just for Annie, but all of the kids. She was thirty one years now, chock full of bad memories and experiences. But so were the children. Little Krista was just ten and Petra was just seventeen and they'd already been through so much. It wasn't fair, but she knew all too well that life was never fair.

* * *

 A breathy sigh emerged from Ymir's lips. She was sitting outside in what the kids called the Nan Garden. The name had come from the creator of the garden, a woman named Nanaba. From what Ymir had gathered from bits of coversations and the occasional quick reading, Nanaba had florakenesis and helped create most of the gardens in Smith Academy. The Nan Garden was her favorite. It was one of the larger ones, with flowers of more muted colors. Her favorite spot was the concrete bench that sat close to the white lilies. The letters M and N were scratched onto the left edge of the bench. Whenever she got overwhelmed or had bad dreams, Ymir would run to the Nan Garden, just so that she could rub her fingers across the initials.

Germany was a nice place. Ymir's former home was nothing like this. As gruff as she liked to act, she loved Smith Academy with all of her heart. She shivered, thinking of the fjords in the winter time.  _Get it together, Ymir. You're here now._

She found herself stroking the initials. The rhythmic pattern distracted her from the invasive thoughts and Petra entering the garden. The strawberry blonde stood a few feet away from her, ever polite in giving the younger girl her space. "Are you ready for your lessons?" she asked, smiling at her. Ymir nodded and stood to follow the older girl. "Nifa should be ready for you."

Ymir took note of her steely tone. Perhaps she knew that Nifa had been sending her away or having her run errands instead of teaching her. It'd been two weeks since she had a proper session. Whenever Nifa decided she wanted to teach, she'd always start by sitting Ymir on her favorite pillow. A fluffy grey one that Ymir sank straight into. Then she'd draw an eye on her own forehead, then on the floor and she'd begin with a few simple exercises. She'd instruct Ymir to clear her mind and focus on the cauldron. It was Nifa's favorite explanation. "Just picture that the magic is like blood, but it's all in one place. Like a witch's cauldron. The source of your power." 

Nifa and Petra were a lot alike. At first anyways. Ymir knew there was a rift between them from the start but one day it seemed that the younger sister found out something she wasn't supposed to. Then they fought like cats and dogs. Nifa withdrew and she stopped taking Ymir shopping whenever she excelled in a session. 

When the pair finally arrived, Petra threw open the door. Ymir had always wanted to know what was going on between them. She could read Petra's mind, but she didn't know what she was looking for and the older girl would notice if she took too long. The thoughts vacated her mind as smoke poured out of the room. A disgruntled Nifa sat up, looking at the intruders of her sanctuary. "Aw hey, Ymir. What's with the face, Petra?" she greeted. The room reeked of marijuana and even from this distance, Ymir knew her eyes were bloodshot.

"What's with the face?" Petra echoed shrilly. "I haven't seen you in weeks!"

"I've been busy," Nifa drawled. Though Nifa was inconsiderate most of the time, the girl still felt bad for her. Mind reading sessions were always hard for the girl. She hated stumbling across Nifa's bad memories. She'd seen enough death as is.

The air around the strawberry blonde crackled, making Ymir step back.  _Ugh. I don't want to see this,_ she thought, but stayed rooted to the ground. "Busy doing what? Neglecting your _responsibilities_? _Neglecting your son?_ " she challenged. Nifa stood up, slowly approaching Petra.

"You wouldn't understand, baby sis," she said slowly. There was no missing the edge in her voice. "He's being taken care of." 

"God, Nifa! He doesn't even know does he? I can't believe I had to hear it from someone else. Why didn't you tell me this?" she was shouting now, popping noises coming from her finger tips.

"It's not of your concern. Now leave me alone. I have things to do and I don't have time to entertain your little soap opera show here," she seemed to remember Ymir was there. "And you brought her. Why?"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Petra shrieked, sparks starting to fly from her finger tips. "It is my concern that I have a nephew that you've been hiding from me! Who the hell is his father? And why aren't you keeping up with lessons! I thought we were going to leave here, Nifa! You promised we'd go to that safehouse. That you'd adopt her and everything would be fine! What the  _fuck_ happened to that?!" she screamed, causing tiny red fireworks to pop around her hands. 

 _Adopt me?_ Petra's words made Ymir's heart twist. A realization dawned on her, making her feel worse. Petra chose to do this now to guilt her sister. She stood stone still watching the two argue. Small, angry bursts of fireworks errupted around the room as they screamed at each other. Nifa would throw pillows at Petra and Petra's fireworks got dangerously bigger and closer to Nifa's head. Finally Nifa screamed something, stepping through a mirror, disappearing. Ymir stood in hall as Petra slammed the door. She didn't mask her sobbing. 

The freckled girl stumbled in a daze down the hall. She walked past Hange, carrying someone she desperately hoped wasn't Krista. She could really use a hug from her. She was easily her best friend. Her behavior was strange to Ymir. Krista was just ten, but strangely sweet. Or she supposed she only acted that way in front of others. She knew most ten year-olds weren't that nice. But she couldn't wrap her head around why. Why act so nice? It was unnerving at times. How could anyone be that nice? The teeny blonde just oozed niceness and it made her sick. It wasn't that Ymir was a total asshat who wasn't capable of being nice. It's just that she could see that her friend wasn't totally sincere. But she couldn't ever bring herself to ask Krista why.

The freckled girl walked to the mess hall, half looking for Krista, half looking for food. The only thing she was greeted by was a lone cheeseburger. She was hungry. But when she reached for it, she could picture Eren in the back of her mind. She drew her hand back. "I don't even like cheeseburgers," the girl sneered. Remembering she was alone, Ymir dropped her shoulders and disgusted demeanor. With a defeated sigh, she headed for the smaller gym on the third floor. Just because Nifa didn't want to teach, it didn't mean that Ymir shouldn't practice.

* * *

  _Thank god for Google translate,_ Jean thought. Thanks to Google, he could actually communicate with the freckled freak next to him. He'd thanked the boy profusely before realizing they weren't speaking the same language. 

Whatever the boy- Marco had done, it knocked the scraggly woman out. Jean got his wallet back and collected his phone that fell from his pocket during the encounter. So naturally the first thing he did was whip out Google translate. Once he figured out Marco's name and language, things went pretty smoothly. Jean bought him lunch and Marco told him his story.

"You can't be serious," Jean deadpanned. He wanted to add a "that's ridiculous" but the electronic voice was already repeating in Spanish.

"I am! I would not lie about serious. You see me do it!" The translations were off sometimes, but Jean could always get the gist of what Marco said.

The French boy shook his head. "Yeah whatever. So you're just a homeless runaway now? What're you gonna do?" he asked, leaning towards his acquaintance. 

Marco looked melancholy for a minute. "I can't go home. But I could find a place to stay I'm sure."

 _Ah right._ "You could stay with me. It's just my mom and I. She's kind of nosy and doesn't really understand the need for private time," he explained,"but she's a good cook and a great mother." 

Marco's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?"

Jean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes really," he snapped. "Now c'mon, let me show you my home." 

Along the way, Jean discovered how talkative Marco could be. Even with everything that'd happened to him, he was still amiable. Or allegedly. Of course Jean was skeptical, but the freckled boy seemed so sincere it was hard to grasp the truth. He was proving to be a trustworthy person. And with his pleasant demeanor and niceties. Jean wasn't sure that people like Marco could exist. And yet, there he was, babbling about joining the military. "I don't get you," Jean mumbled upon reaching his apartment. 

"Hm?" Marco seemed surprised, as though he thought Jean hadn't been listening. Jean just shook his head, turning his door knob. 

"So this is it-"

Jean's voice died in his throat. An arm laid on the floor, severed at the elbow. He could see the scratch marks on the floor. "Jean"

There was no mistaking it. The silver ring, bright pink nails. The arm that would circle across his shoulders when he was upset. The hand that would wipe away his tears or pull his ear when he misbehaved. "Jean"

His eyes followed the blood trail to a bloody clump of flesh in the middle of the floor. Scalp. He could see some of his mother's sandy-colored hair.  _Oh God._ A cold chill zipped down his spine when he heard the chewing noises. Growling and chewing. Something was  _eating_ his mother. "Jean"

The shell shocked boy turned to see Marco's face go pale. He allowed the freckled boy to pull him out and away from the door. The pair practically flew away from the apartments. They ran back to the cafe where they ate lunch before. Jean pulled out his phone, hands shaking so badly he could barely hold it. "What do we do now?" 

The electronic voice dutifully repeated. Marco reached into his shirt and pulled out a thin wallet. "We run. My grandma told me that I needed to go to Berlin and find Smith Academy," he said, turning the wallet in his hands.

Jean wanted to disagree. He wanted to call the police but what could they do? What other choice did have then to go with Marco? He felt himself nod, then stood. "Let's get moving," he said, terrified by the thought of whatever dismembered his mother catching up to them. "We've got a train to catch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a question? Drop some down below for chapter-ly Q&A's in the end notes!

**Author's Note:**

> AGAIN! Please make sure to read the tags! If there's anything particularly racy in one of the chapters, there will be warnings in the notes at the beginning.


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